


Gunner Jensen

by Skellyagogo



Category: The Expendables
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Drug Use, F/M, Female reader insert, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26087908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skellyagogo/pseuds/Skellyagogo
Summary: You needed a break from it all, needed time to think and clear your head.  Too many thoughts cluttering your mind.  They all understood, except the stoic Swed.  Believing you gone for good he hit rock bottom and planned to stay there.*Written while listening to Sober by Bad Wolves.*
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Gunner Jensen

Everyone thought it was the stress of the job that had finally gotten to Gunner. That his mind had finally snapped. The incident with the pirates further proved that something was very wrong with him. Failure to listen to Barney, even Christmas. How easily he pulled the trigger blowing the leader of the pirate rebels in half. His callous and inhuman laughter that followed.

The strain of it all on his body and mind that caused him to drink and drown himself in drugs worse than usual. The job, our job, our lives, what we did. The violence and torture. The death and destruction. He just snapped like they had seen happen to many before them, but that wasn't the case.

Gunner didn't take your departure from the group as well as the others. You never intended on leaving for good. You explained it to Christmas and Barney. You just needed some time, a break from it all. Promising that you were coming back, even giving Barney your skull ring to hold onto. Leaving your favorite bowie knife in the hands of Christmas. Sentiments made to ensure them you were coming back.

Toll knew things were getting to be a little too much for you. He could see it in the small changes in your demeanor. The longer bouts of silence than usual, the way even smiling seemed to require more effort. Not even your laugh was the same. Deep down, they all knew. All of them had had that bout at some time in their life, but most choose to hide it, stuff it down and swallow it whole. That just wasn't your way though.

It'd been nonstop for months, close to a year without a break longer than a few days. One run down third world country after another. One job completed led to another that needed your expertise. If it wasn't Church pulling you and the rest of the gang into a job, it was Trench calling in a favor on one of your rare days off.

Life had become go, go, go and it felt like you couldn't breathe. Like the walls were closing in on you. More times than you wanted to admit, a sick feeling crept its way up your throat. Dread and panic surged through your body to the point sleep had become non-existent. Always surrounded by an overwhelming feeling of fear that you just needed to shake off, but it was getting more complicated.

Space, you needed space and fresh air. Mountains and crickets and the calls of wildlife in the night. You needed to get lost in the flames of a bonfire and let them take you away from the thoughts inside your head. A break from the fumes of diesel fuel and gun powder. Away from engine grease and the stoic stares of the boys.

You were just so damned tired. Tired of the same stories, the same jokes. Drinks at the same bar. Tool and his blatantly obvious flirtations. Always getting so close to beating Christmas in a war of knives. The same old philosophical and therapeutic debates with Toll. Ceasar was about the only one that hadn't annoyed the hell out of you. He was the one you turned to most, but even he couldn't find the words to ease the trouble inside your mind when you wouldn't tell him the truth.

Barney could see it though, he had a knack for that sort of thing. He tried to ease your workload by suggesting your stay behind on and work on fixing one of the many vehicles that sat dormant in the hangar. That only made the guys grumble over preferential treatment. It was the only time that you weren't one of the guys and you couldn't stand to hear the quips, the jokes.

They were wondering if you were going soft. Wondering if the next time you showed up in the hangar if you wouldn't be wearing heels and a dress instead of your work overalls ready to fix Barney's ancient museum piece of a plane or gear for a mission. They joked and quipped about what you'd look like if you ever did that. Would they even recognize you?

Gunner was the only one who never joined in on those conversations. He'd sit on the sidelines cleaning his knives, occasionally glancing your way. There would be times when he'd set his knives in his lap, sit up straight and smile your way. It was a full-blown smile, no, Gunner never did that, but it was a rarity for him. To offer up something so meaningful and yet so tiny as a sweet smile.

There was something in his eyes, in the way he looked at you that you could never place. Gunner was too good at hiding behind the front he put up. Too good at keeping himself emotionless, but when the jokes had gone on long enough, he'd stand up and slam his knife into the nearest table or wall. A silent warning to the rest that he'd heard enough. The boys would stifle their laughter staring at Gunner only for him to growl their way. Sneering, baring his teeth is what it took for them to roll their eyes and change the subject.

You knew they meant well, but the strain of it all. You just needed some time to collect your thoughts, maybe find someone to talk to like Toll was always rambling on about. You craved sleep. A nice long uninterrupted bout of sleep. No ringing of your phone calling you to arms. No calls and texts to come out for drinks. No begging to come and fix the plane when Barney was too frustrated or to settle a bet with the rest of the boys. Peace, you just needed to be able to hear your thoughts for once.

Gunner couldn't understand. He thought you were walking out on all of them. Thought you were leaving for good. Abandonment seemed to feel like second nature to him. It was hard for the rest to fathom why he was taking it as hard as he was. You two hardly spoke outside of work, but you could always feel him watching. Covering your back where ever you were.

He was never much of a talker. When he did speak to you, he found himself stumbling over his words. Instead, he started to let his actions speak for him. Taking your rifle and cleaning it while he did his own in the back of the plane on the flight home from a job. Sharpening your knives with precision and care only he could as if they belonged amongst his collection of weaponry. Gunner held open doors and pulled out chairs. He may have been few and far in between with his words, but even the tiniest of his actions spoke the loudest.

Barney, you assumed had seen it long before either you or Gunner had. Saw the trouble brewing and the future storm on the horizon but nothing ever happened more than a few glances and a couple of drunken dances. Gunner never felt worthy of the thoughts that rambled inside his head and because of that, he kept it locked up behind bars. Nothing more than thoughts, late-night dreams. He crammed all of those overly complicated and meddlesome feelings deep within.

When you left, he saw it as a sign that it was never meant to be. That those rambling thoughts were nothing but a pipe dream. That you were just another in a long line of things he failed at because of something he did. He drowned himself in alcohol and chemicals. He wanted to numb those emotions. Tried to kill the ache of a pain worse than death, the thought of unrequited love.

He thought in lucid moments if he would have said something it would have kept you from leaving. Maybe if he would have spoken up on that last plane ride home you would have stayed. Maybe if he would have put aside that bravado and fear and pushed Christmas away from you on the dance floor during that last night out at the bar, you would have looked up in his eyes and given him that special smile he only ever saw you give him.

There were too many maybes that played around in his brain. Too many times he had the chance but never took that leap. He kicked himself over it every chance he got. Why'd you have to turn him into a mumbling fool? He let his own self-loathing and hatred eat him alive. So he pulled himself into rock-bottom where he felt he deserved to stay.

~

The boys were celebrating at Tool's after Vilena. The music and ruckus boisterous laughter wafting out into the night air. You could see the outlines of their shadows through the glass windows. The news even as far away as you had gone over the last month had reached your ear. The mishap with the pirates, the fight with Yang and Barney. Gunner turning towards the bad guys seeking revenge on the boys. The car chase and the fight after where he was near to killing Yang. Barney having no choice but to shoot Gunner in the shoulder to keep him from killing Yang.

Hearing it all tore you up inside and you knew it was your fault. Maybe if you had pulled Gunner aside before you left, spoke with him alone assuring him you'd be back that none of it would have ever happened. You knew he used drugs but it had never been that bad before. He'd never acted out so horrendously, but it all happened the moment you left. It all went to shit when you disappeared.

From the shadows of the alley, you saw the figures of the boys working their way towards the open doors. The air heavy with testosterone, alcohol, and cigar smoke. You smiled and chuckled hearing the knife war between Christmas and Tool. The 'thunk' of the knives as they sunk into the target hung high on the wall. Lee walked out into the street spouting his diatribe towards the rest of the crew inside. As much as you relished in the peace and quiet over the last month, you truly missed times like this.

You didn't need the silence as much as you thought, though your thoughts did need to unwind and settle. Entangled emotions you'd let fester too long needed time. Time to figure out if they were real or just from loneliness. The silence and quiet of the mountains did nothing but bring your mind back to the same thing over and over.

"I once knew a man called Tool." Christmas faced the rest of them inside with a smirk. "To me, was the epitome of cool. He was good with a knife, bad with a wife but to think he could beat me. Dreaming he'd defeat me. Cool Tool, you gotta be a fool." Lee was grinning with his back now turned to the boys. His hand twitching at his side itching to throw his knife, but you never gave him the chance.

Stepping out of the shadows and into his eye-line. Watching the elation wash over his face. That sly little smirk he reserved just for you. His favorite girl, the only one to ever turn him down. The only woman brush off his advances and instead became like the family he never felt he had before.

You stood behind Christmas out of view of the others. Their chatter roaring out into the street. With a wink, he turned his body to the side, stepping out of your way. The knife flew out of your hand soaring through the air landing with a hard 'thump' in the center of the target.

"We are the shadows and the smoke, we rise. We are the ghosts that hide in the night." The words dripping like honey as they left your mouth. The relaxed eerie calmness in your voice they all missed so much.

Following Christmas inside of Tool's, the boys surrounded you in a huddle. Hugs all around. Getting passed from one pair of massive arms to the other. 'Welcome backs' and 'we missed you' uttered aloud. Elation at the missing piece of their puzzle had been found and come home. A beer had been slipped into your hand, your usual, your favorite, the boys knew you so well. Still cold. Condensation dripping down the bottle wetting your hand. The coldness of the glass mixing with the mugginess of the night air.

You could feel his gaze upon you, that familiar pair of eyes boring into your back. Always watching out for you no matter where you were, even in the safety of Tool's surrounded by the best of the best.

Gunner didn't move from where he sat. Watching you through strands of sweat damped hair that covered his eyes. He was too afraid to blink believing you were nothing more than a mirage. His trusty flask held in a death grip in his hand nearly slipped from his fingers when your telltale scent filled his senses.

Those deep conflicted eyes of his left the sight of you and landed on the floor beneath his feet. Old boots, worn in and scuffed. He'd had them for ages but never remembered buying them. Comfortable and dependable and yet now they seemed so foreign to him. His shoulders hunched, turning in on themselves. That Nordic blond head of hair dipped forward in shame. What could you possibly be thinking after hearing what he'd done?

He could tell you knew at that first glance in your eyes. He saw the conflict brewing inside them. Empathy and regret. The slight scrunch in your eyes as you gazed his way. He knew he wasn't perfect, he never was, but at least he thought you'd never been afraid of him. Maybe that's why you looked at him the way you did now.

Giving the rest of the boys a muted smile, they stepped away as they continued with the celebration. The old rock songs filling your ears, the smell of beer and whiskey hanging on the air. Tufts of smoke from Tool's pipe and Barney's cigar swirling around the room. It felt like home being in this place. As much as you needed a breather, it felt like you were gasping for air not being around it all the last month.

Walking towards Gunner, a heavy exhale barely hid the sigh seeing the bandage poking out from his button-up shirt. The newest scar of his anger and addiction hidden beneath. It felt like a lifetime walking those few feet just to cross the room. Why didn't you just say something before? Why couldn't you just say you were trying to deal with an emotion that scared the hell out of you?

Nothing in this world is guaranteed especially not in this life, not with this job. One night stands had never been your thing. You wanted something more, but finding someone who could understand your life was hard. How could you explain the unexplained absences, the bruises, and wounds? A man from the outside world would never understand, but he did. He always did and he always would.

Gunner didn't look up when you stood in front of him, nestling yourself between his thighs as he sat on the edge of the pool table. His body stiffened and tensed feeling your palms coming to rest on his face. Closing his eyes, not believing you were real. You were another mirage. The same mirage that had come to him in bouts of sobriety over the last month.

Brushing his hair away from his eyes, out of his face. Slicking it back against his skull. Seeing the pain and regret that weighed heavily on him. Gunner was never good to himself. Never believed he was anything other than death and destruction. Lifting his chin, thumbs rubbing over the apples of his cheeks. Over scars that read like a timeline of his career.

Slowly opening his eyes, blinking in disbelief. Tired pupils meeting yours. A grimace of torment washed over his eyes. Scrunching his face in remorse. The weight of his legs crushing into yours as his thighs attempted to lock you in place. To keep you from disappearing again.

The flask in his hand clattering to the ground. Bouncing off the cement floor getting lost underneath the pool table. His arms that had been limp at his sides now snaking their way around your waist. Creeping up your back as his hold on you tightened.

Running your fingers through his hair he let out a deep groan ladened sigh. His head falling forward, forehead slumping against your chest. Pulling you closer, inching you further into him until not even a strand of hair would have fit between you.

Engulfed in his massive embrace you felt his heart racing. Beating like a savage drum. A rhythm that was all too familiar to you having felt the same inside your for far too long.

Neither of you heard the idle chatter behind you. Nor witnessed the smirks and grins. Heard the muffled laughter or the nervous cough. Neither heard Barney tell the rest of them to 'hit the bricks'. The only thing you heard was the sound of two heartbeats thumping in tandem.

You wanted to speak, to tell him how sorry you were. Explain why you needed to leave. Needed to recharge and clear your head. To deal with and accept the raging want inside you. Gunner never gave you the chance. His mouth was on yours in the blink of an eye. Tender and soft and so much more than he ever thought he was capable of. Gunner letting his actions finally say what his words never could.


End file.
